Emotions and Alcohol
by Girl Ain't Right
Summary: "I don't want to sleep alone tonight. I don't want to cry any more. I just want to…be." - Mac/OC - If you like it, I will write more - just let me know!


There was something wrong about the situation from the start. He couldn't deny it and wouldn't even try. He had been the sober one, okay, the MORE sober one. He should have been the rational one. He should have been the one who should have thought more clearly. Instead, he was the one who was weak, the one who gave in.

Many years ago, he'd learned that emotions and alcohol were a dangerous mix. Toss into that mix an incredibly sexy redhead and the mix grew infinitely more dangerous. Make that redhead your childhood buddy's younger sister and you have probably signed your death warrant.

But that wasn't the case. Her older brother, his best friend since kindergarten wouldn't be kicking his ass for sleeping with his 10 year younger, baby sister. He couldn't do that. He was dead. The victim of a heart attack at age 55, he was the cause for the emotions; his viewing was the source of the alcohol, and his little sister? Well, she wasn't so little any more.

Looking down at the woman who lay in his arms, Mac Taylor wondered why he wore a smile. Sure, the sex was good. He had no doubt it would be. Katie Ryan Garrity had always had a raw sexuality to her – even when she was a 15 year old kid, with wildly crazy dark red hair and a mischievous twinkle to her brown eyes. She was an early bloomer, sporting a curvy woman's body, even when she was just a teen. She was also a born flirt, just like her brother, Sean.

Mac used to appreciate the way Sean's flirting would draw the girls to them. He'd never mastered the skill himself, so he was content to let Sean reel them in. Once he did, Mac was usually able to keep them interested. Usually.

There were three more brothers in the ten years between Sean and Katie. Frankie came 3 years after Sean, two years later, Michael was born, four years after Michael, Johnny was born and then, finally, 10 months after Johnny came the only female child born to the Ryan family, Kathleen Bernadette. They were, despite the age gap, a close knit, rowdy bunch. Johnny and Katie were "Irish twins" and shared many of the same friends, but it was Sean who Katie was closest to.

She adored her big brother and he adored her. Mac could remember times when they would be out playing stick ball, while Katie, a chattering red headed toddler, would sit for hours and watch her big brother, all while having long winded discussions with her dolls, who sat in a row next to her.

Sean was fiercely protective of his little sister, a fact that became evident when she became a teen and started drawing the attention of the boys in the neighborhood. Sean would make many trips home from his apartment in the city to set neighborhood boys straight about his little sister.

Mac, of course, noticed just how attractive his buddy's little sister was, but he quickly turned off any thoughts of her as more than the red headed toddler. After all, not only was he with Claire, but Sean would have killed him.

Katie would flirt shamelessly with him. He thought it was because she knew it was safe, because she knew she could embarrass him and because it actually tickled Claire on some level. Katie confirmed his suspicions, last night, over a bottle of Jamison's and some serious teasing by her brother Frankie.

Mac chuckled and played it off, but something in her eyes told him that there had to be more to it than just an innocent childhood crush. Tonight, after Sean's very long, very crowded viewing, they all went back to Sean's bar, the Stumble Inn, and gave him a true Irish wake. There was alcohol, food, laughter, memories, and tears. Family mixed with friends and regulars of the bar and the gathering lasted well into the night.

Katie was in the thick of things early on, laughing, telling stories, doing shots. She'd brought a boyfriend, a guy she introduced as Steve. He was an investment banker and they'd been seeing each other for about a year. He was a nice enough guy, but not at all what Mac pictured for the boisterous red head. Steve was quiet and didn't quite fit in with the rowdy crowd. He must have left sometime around ten, as Katie parked herself in the empty stool between Mac and Frankie and spent the rest of her night there.

As the crowd thinned to mostly family and close friends, Mac found himself sharing a bottle with Katie. They talked about their lives since he moved from Chicago. Sure, they'd seen each other a few times and Sean had kept them both fairly up to date, but there was a lot they didn't know.

He'd known that her son, Sean Patrick, from her short lived marriage at age 20, had gone to the Naval Academy and was now in pilot training in Pensacola. She was terribly proud of him, but sad that he could not get leave to come to the funeral. She understood why, but still she wished he was there.

As she talked about him, Mac saw a motherly pride in her eyes, she had raised the boy as a single mom, with the help of her brothers of course, but it was her guidance and strict hand that made him what he was and she had every right to be proud. He found the maternal side to her nearly as sexy and the flirting rowdy side and found himself more and more taken with her as the night went on.

He stopped drinking, hoping that his head would clear and the attraction would disappear, but it didn't. Instead, it grew stronger. She must have felt it too, because her body language changed, her tone dropped into a sexier, confidential purr, and her eyes sent him messages that were unmistakable.

Sometime after one a.m., she decided she needed to leave the bar or she would never make the funeral. Johnny was nominated to take her home, but he wasn't any more sober than she was. Sure, they'd take a cab, but something about the arrangement didn't bode well. Instead, Mac stepped up and offered to take her home.

She informed him, as they walked out to the cab, that she'd gotten a room in the same hotel as he had, deciding that she wasn't going to attempt to get to her home in Rogers Park at any point. He was surprised to find that she'd spent the previous night only four doors down from him.

He walked her to her room and waited while she opened the door. In hindsight, he should have said no when she invited him in, but he didn't. Instead, he walked in with her, pulling the door closed behind them.

She dropped her coat on the wing chair and kicked off her black pumps, then turned to him. "Crack open the honor bar," she instructed.

"I think we've both had enough," he gently protested, as she walked towards him.

She shook her head, "I don't hardly think so. See, my buzz is gone. I need that buzz, Mac. If I don't have it, I will be forced to think…"

"Would that be such a bad thing?" he tried, placing his hands on her arms, feeling her warm skin through the silk of her blouse.

She tried a smile, "I don't know. That depends on how you want this night to end."

"What are my choices?"

"Either you crack open the honor bar and I have another drink so I can just pass out or you watch while I crumble and pour my sobbing ass into bed," was her flat reply.

He studied her face, finding her looking much more tired than she had in the bar. He could see the sadness in her eyes; it was more pronounced that earlier. "Have you cried at all?"

She shook her head, "I can't, Mac."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid to," she admitted. "I'm afraid if I start, I won't stop."

"What if I promise to stay here with you and make sure you do?" he asked, with a soft smile.

She smiled, but tears formed in her eyes, "You don't have to do that…"

"Are you kidding? Sean would kick my ass if I didn't," he said, watching as the tears began to fall.

"He would, wouldn't he?" she asked, her bottom lip trembling.

Mac nodded, pulling her into his arms. "Its okay, Kate, just let go. Get it out."

He felt her body began to shake as the sobs worked their way out in great big, noisy waves. She let herself go for a minute or two, then slowly calmed, pulling back after a moment or two to study his face.

He watched her eyes as they studied him, finally locking with his. The message in her eyes was unmistakable. There was a need, a loneliness that he understood too well. Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her softly.

Instead of pulling back, she pressed her lips to his, drawing the kiss on. He held her close, as her arms slipped around his neck, her body pressed to his. It was at that point that he should have pulled away, said good night and put her to bed. But he didn't.

"Stop feeling guilty, Taylor," she softly said, her lips brushing the bare skin of his chest when she talked.

"And just what makes you think I feel guilty?"

"Because I grew up knowing that Millie Taylor's only son was an honorable man," she went on, looking up at him with a wry smile, "And that sleeping with his buddy's little sister is NOT something he would feel good about."

"But that's where you're wrong," he countered, hoping she didn't see through his smile, "I feel very good right now."

Kate laughed, "That's just cuz you got laid."

"That's part of it…" he allowed, then grew serious. "I probably should have stopped this."

Kate rolled her eyes, "I'm 45 years old, Mac, not 15. We're adults."

"I know…"

"And if you want to know the truth, when Steven and I divorced, Sean told me I should look for a man like you."

Mac raised a brow. "Sean knew too much about me to say that."

She shook her head, "He thought the world of you, Mac."

"And I thought the world of him," Mac allowed, feeling his own emotions build.

"Let's not over analyze tonight, okay? It happened. Instead of celebrating Sean's life by drinking til we puked, we celebrated it this way."

"And tomorrow?"

She shrugged, "I don't want to think about tomorrow right now. Can't we just lay here? Maybe sleep like this? I don't want to sleep alone tonight. I don't want to cry any more. I just want to…be."

There was something what she said that struck home to him and he nodded. "I think that's a good idea."

With a satisfied smile, she lay her head back down on his chest. "Good choice, Taylor. Now, let's get some sleep."

He held her while she relaxed into sleep, laying awake long after, listening to the sound of her breathing, willing his mind not to think about the night and sometime, before the sun came up, he fell into a peaceful sleep of his own.


End file.
